Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Friday, March 19, 2010

The Last Nail is the title of my latest new Andy Roberts song, it's a folk song ballad sea shanty whatever that laments the closing of a boatyard inspired by the story of St Monan's in Fife, Scotland where I spent some time recently.

Hers is the video of the first live performance of The Last Nail at Havering Folk Club on Wednesday March 17th, St Patrick's Day as it happens.

These are the Lyrics to The Last Nail:

Above the stone walled harbour, or down the winding hill
That's where they built the boatyard, and the structure stands there still.
Not much boat building happens now, just repairs and fitting out
but when the wind rattles the boatmasts, you can hear the old boatbulders shout:
Will you pass the last nail over and I'll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she'll be ready for the race.

Our grandfathers put up the boatyard, to build the fishing fleet,
more than fifty boats in the harbour, and shops all down the main street
then the steam age brought in the drifters,
boat builders became engineers
Now the wind blows straight through the boatyard,
there'll be no more boat building here
Will you pass the last nail over and I'll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she'll be ready for the race.

With a keen eye for staying in business, they switched over to build leisure craft
And the weekend yachtsmen snapped them up, no expense spared fore or aft
Then wooden hulls went out of fashion, the order book emptied last year
So the bankers foreclosed on the boatyard,
and there'll be no more boatbuilding here
Will you pass the last nail over and I'll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she'll be ready for the race.

Now the Vikings invented the clinker for both strength and shallow seas
and the herring boats followed the coastline, until the canning ships found the key
There's a regatta here every August, and the whole village turns out again
But the Sea Queen's no real competition, and it's guaranteed to rain
Will you pass the last nail over and I'll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she'll be ready for the race.

Above the stone walled harbour, or down the winding hill
that's where they built the boatyard, and the skeleton stands there still.
No more boat building happens now, not even fitting out
but when the wind rattles the boatmasts, you can still hear the old boys shout:
Will you pass the last nail over, we'll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she'll be ready for the race.

Monday, March 08, 2010

last week it was the turn of Simon Oliver to have a member's featured evening at Havering Folk Club, and he borrowed my vintage Guild 12 string guitar for a few numbers which gave me the chance to sit in the audience and hear what it sounds like, unamplified, in the medieval pub room upstairs at the Golden Lion, Romford. Sounded pretty good to me, Well done Simon.

Sunday, March 07, 2010

(Fred Wedlock)
I am just a folker and my story's seldom told
I have massacred folk music with a yard of German plywood and a capo
I do requests--just the ones that have two chords in them and I disregard the rest
Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .

In the Seabeen Pub I clean forgot the 42nd verse,
So I sang the 27th twice as loud and in reverse and no one notice.
I laughed for hours the tears ran down me trouser leg
I thought I'd wet me drawers

Well, I stand on stage the hero a martyr to me trade
And carry the reminders of all the gigs I've played in like the Irish Club
Where I fled in mortal fear—with the imprint of a Guinness bottle stamped across my ear
Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .

Seeking twenty with expenses I went looking for a gig
But I got no offers--just a come on from a groupie up in Boulder
I do declare--I was feeling rather randy and I had her then and there
Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .

Well, I met this great guitarist and I asked him for advice
But the message that he gave me--wasn't very nice or even civil
Stick it where--and if I did how could I tune it with it shoved way up there
Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .

Now I've got my thing together, man, I'm really freaking out
Reading “Melody Maker,” mainlining on draught stout and having hang ups
And like the rest, I'm having trouble with my sex life since I fell and broke my wrist
And my other songs are twice as bad as this